


Resurrection of the Fallen

by LonelyGodsMuse



Series: Life is Fickle [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 03:19:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6313357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyGodsMuse/pseuds/LonelyGodsMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuance of my story "Last Minute Phone Calls and Lost Text Messages".  Please enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resurrection of the Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Small changes: Sara Lance never died but Thea was still resurrected. Nyssa cares for Felicity and so she reacts to Oliver wanting to revive her the same way that she reacts to Laurel wanting to revive Sara. I have borrowed some lines form the actual show. These lines do not belong to me, I am only using them to further my story:) I hope you enjoy. Please comment.

“Nyssa I will not discuss this anymore. I want to—no, I have to do this. I cannot— I will not continue in this life without her. “

 

“You are a fool, Oliver Queen. The woman you love has long been dead. If you put her into the Lazarus Pit, you are condemning her to a hell that no one should go through. Let her spirit rest.” 

 

Seeing her reasoning fail in regards to Oliver, Nyssa turns to face Sara. “Please, Sara. You know that who or what comes out of that pit will not be Felicity. She will be a monster. Felicity was your friend. I would like to consider her mine as well. Do not do this to her, I beg of you.”

 

Sara stares into Nyssa’s eyes measuring her expression. Nyssa’s eyes are pleading and wet though she holds back her tears. Sara glances at Oliver to see his jaw locked and his green eyes set. Diggle and Roy are standing at his sides their expressions grim but determined with their arms crossed in front of their chests. “I’m sorry, Nyssa. But we need Felicity back. We can’t…” go on. The words hang in the silence damning everyone present.

 

Nyssa’s face showed her shock before she fixed her expression. Her eyes glittered defiantly and she bit out, “Then you are all responsible for the hell you drag her through.” She turned and walked away.

* * *

 

Roy and Diggle stood in a small, dark room lit only by groupings of candles set in arrangements around the edges giving the dark space an odd, unearthly feel. They stood gathered around a plain, wooden casket--the very casket that they had transferred Felicity to Nanda Parbat in.

 

The silence was heavy, stifling. Roy broke the silence. “Are we really doing this? Are we going to bring Felicity back even after what we’ve seen Thea go through and Nyssa’s warnings?”

Diggle didn’t answer. He just continued to stand rigidly at the head of the casket, gazing down at it with a somber expression. Diggle’s silence rankled Roy. “Dig!”

 

Diggle’s head jerked up and he focused intensely on Roy’s red, angry face. “Are we really going to drag our friend, our Felicity, back here from wherever she is? Are we—“ Roy heaved a breath, “are we going to turn her into a monster for the sole reason of having her back in our lives? Are we really that selfish?” Roy’s voice cracked and eventually dropped to a hushed whisper as his sentence ended. His face was downtrodden and his eyes were filled with tears as he peered into Dig’s.

 

Diggle couldn’t look Roy in the eyes as he replied softly, “I’ve been wondering the exact same thing, Roy. The exact same thing.” 

* * *

 

“Oliver, I must counsel you one last time. Do not do this. The woman you love is gone. You are not doing this out of love, you’re doing this out of your grief. Felicity is gone. Bringing her back will only hurt everyone involved.” Malcolm’s voice was devoid of malice or spite, instead it sounded sincere and pained. “We were never friends, Felicity and I, but I believe we respected each other. As one human being who respected the life of Felicity Smoak to another, rethink this.”

 

“I have made my decision, Malcolm. We helped place that ring on your finger, now it is time you returned the favor.”

 

Malcolm stepped back, tipped up his chin arrogantly and affixed his pompous façade immediately after Oliver’s words and nodded his head at the two black clad men standing behind Oliver. The men bowed before Malcolm and then quickly left the room. “So be it.”

 

The two men returned swiftly accompanied by Diggle, Roy, Sara, who all were holding up a large slab of wood on which laid Felicity’s body clothed in a ceremonial white robe. Oliver crossed the room to take the fourth corner of the slab from one of Malcolm’s assassins. The four crossed the room together towards the pit where they fastened four ropes to the four corners of the plank and began to move it over the pit. The chanting started as the plank and Felicity rose higher and higher until it was suspended over the roiling water.

 

Nyssa barged into the room and was immediately detained by two of Malcolm’s men, “I would see you all dead before I let you do this! Sara, Oliver, please do not do this.”

 

Sara glanced between Oliver and Nyssa while Roy whispered towards Diggle, “Are you sure we want to do this?”

 

Diggle didn’t get a chance to answer because Oliver did for him with two words, “Keep going.”

 

The chanting started up again and continued as all four of the rope bearers lowered Felicity into the waters until she was fully submerged. The chanting stopped immediately as the ropes suddenly ripped themselves from out of Roy’s, Dig’s, Oliver’s and Sara’s hands and fell into the bubbling water. The surface was calm and remained undisturbed for several moments until slowly, a human form began to rise up with sheets of water sloshing down her body.

 

“Felicity.” Oliver’s voice was quiet and filled with awe, with hope.

 

Felicity didn’t appear to register that Oliver had even spoken. She stood straight, soaked to the bone, with her long, blonde hair hanging in front of her eyes as her head was bowed. Slowly, Felicity raised her head and opened her eyes. They were vacant and lost but seemed to focus on the exit. She suddenly leapt out of the pool and landed in a crouch, just in front of Malcolm and Nyssa. Felicity stayed crouched on the red carpet she had landed on and peered into Nyssa’s face with a searching yet lost expression. Nyssa gazed upon her revived friend but looked away at the lack of recognition she saw—she saw only pain and madness.

 

Once Nyssa turned, Felicity leapt from her position and attempted to dash around Malcolm towards the exit. Before she could make it more than two steps, she was grabbed by her arms on both sides and forced to stand, struggling between the two. Malcolm approached quickly and grabbed the side of Felicity’s head to reach her neck. He inserted a syringe and Felicity’s struggling began to lessen its vigor until she collapsed unconscious. When Felicity’s body started to fall forward, Oliver was already there ready to hold her in his arms. “It’s okay. Shh, Felicity. It’s okay, I’m here.” Oliver whispered these words to her as he cradled her trembling body in his arms uncaring if his clothes started to stick to his skin. He didn’t care because he finally had Felicity back, alive and breathing, in his arms—like she should be.

 

Team Arrow looked down from the raised platform at the couple on the ground taking in how they were surrounded by Malcolm’s men sheathed in black as Malcolm himself stood beside Nyssa—both looking at the blonde in Oliver’s arms with solemnity and Oliver himself with pity, although Nyssa’s expression held barely concealed contempt as she gazed upon him but she quickly refocused her attention to Felicity. 

* * *

 

Oliver didn’t like it but they kept Felicity’s wrist bound in chains even in her unconscious state. He knew rationally that keeping her secure even while asleep would be the best option. He remembered how Thea was when she first came out of the pit and he also remembered Malcolm’s warning that the pit had never been used to restore someone to life after being dead for a year. With all this in mind, they kept Felicity shackled and they plied her with the drug that Malcolm had used to render her unconscious—a gift from Malcolm.

 

Oliver stood outside the Palmer Tech plane with Malcolm as Diggle, Roy, and Sara went inside to sit with Felicity. Oliver offered his hand to his once enemy, “Thank you, Malcolm.”

 

“Do not thank me yet Oliver. We are in uncharted waters. There is no telling what the effects could be from our actions tonight.” Malcolm looked as though he was going to continue speaking when one of his men walked swiftly up to him.

 

“My liege,” He bows his head towards Malcolm, “something has happened.” The man turns promptly and began to walk away. Malcolm followed him quickly and Oliver followed both figures into the bowels of Nanda Parbat. They were led into the atrium where the Lazarus Pit was held. The pool of water was no longer roiling—nor was it water. It was purple and red, fog rising from its frozen, solidified form and in standing before it, facing the pool was Nyssa.

 

“What’ve you done?” Boomed Malcolm’s voice as he strode into the room.

 

Without turning around to face the people gathered at her back, Nyssa spoke calmly, “My father was not a trusting man. He devised a means to destroy the pit should its powers fall into the wrong hands. Like yours.” She sneered as she turned to face Malcolm, Oliver, and some of Malcolm’s assassins.

 

Oliver stepped forward between Nyssa and Malcolm, “Nyssa, how could you even do something like this?”

 

Nyssa’s head snapped to Oliver, “How can you look at the woman you love and ask me that?” Oliver had no answer and Nyssa returned her attention to Malcolm. She stalked towards him on silent footsteps, “One day I will have my moment…and I will kill you. And now when I do, there will be no coming back.”

 

Nyssa stood defiantly before Merlyn even as he ordered his men to grab her. Nyssa struggled half-heartedly against the hands holding her. She returned her gaze to Oliver, “I warned you. I begged you. Whatever happened to end her life was not your fault. But what’s happening to Felicity now, the hell she will go through, _that is your fault_.”

 

The two assassins holding Nyssa dragged her away. Oliver’s mind plays Nyssa’s final speech on repeat even as he watches her form disappear down the dark hallway. “What are you going to do to her?” Oliver asks Malcolm. “I’m not going to kill her. She is the greatest warrior at my disposal. Eventually she will come around.” Oliver remains silent knowing in his heart that Nyssa was not one to bend. She will never come around. Oliver instead, inclines his head towards Merlyn and begins to walk towards the plane. The plane that has part of his team in it—the plane holding a living, breathing Felicity.

* * *

 

Oliver stood on top of a random building staring out into the night. The nights became rather silent after Team Arrow had taken down Damien Dahrk. Oliver continued to stare at the city from his perch but even though the city was quiet, his mind was not. It had been three weeks since the team had returned to Star City with a revived Felicity Smoak but whereas things had calmed within the city, inside the ‘lair’ as Felicity loved to call it, had been anything but easy or relaxed.

 

After returning from Nanda Parbat, the team had tried to wean Felicity off of the sedatives but when she regained consciousness, she immediately became rabid and they were quickly forced to sedate her once again. The team had tried twice more to bring Felicity to consciousness but the final straw had been the second time when Felicity had escaped the lair after throwing Roy into one of the concrete walls, knocking him out. It had taken the team four hours to track Felicity down despite the trail of injured people she left behind.

 

That last attempt ended with eight people in the hospital, a concussion for Roy, a dislocated shoulder for Thea, and a heaviness to everyone’s hearts as they once again watched Felicity succumb to a drug induced sleep. The team was fraying at the edges as Felicity lay in a coma a floor beneath the lair, shackled.

 

Realizing that Oliver needed more help than he could ever provide, he took a deep breath and dialed a number he had long ago memorized. The tone rang twice before a deep, smooth, British voice answered, “John Constantine.”

 

“John. It’s Oliver Queen. I need your help.”

 

The End.


End file.
